


To Family

by madelinewrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mary Winchester - Freeform, Young!Dean, baby!dean - Freeform, domestic!mary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7681744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinewrites/pseuds/madelinewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s no secret that Mary had to fight to get the domestic home life she craved. Even amidst her newfound happiness, she still must find a way to combat all her old fears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Family

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’m a sucker for happy Winchesters; this is basically me letting myself fantasize about the family’s good times that we never got to see. This is my first time using gifs, so it’s a bit of an experiment. Of course, I love feedback!

Mary stirred the sweet mixture thoroughly, making sure every speck of flour and seasoning was blended to perfection before beginning to knead it firmly. She swiped some hair from her face with her forearm, willfully ignoring the scars she had from her past there. It barely seemed real, all the hunting and monsters. Her life had become something so much better. Just as her thoughts drifted to why, he began to cry behind her.

           “Mommy!” Dean sobbed, waddling into the kitchen. Mary immediately wiped her hands on her apron and went to cradle him.

           “What?! What’s wrong, honey?” she asked, panicked. Her eyes went to the kitchen knives placed neatly on the counter. She wasn’t sure what they were made of, but perhaps they would fend off something for even a moment.

           “There’s a monster! He’s got blood in his teeth!” Dean sobbed, pointing to the front window shakily. Mary instinctively gathered Dean in her arms, looking into his sweet little face as tenderly as she could in a moment of panic.

           “Okay Dean, honey, it’s important that we stay calm in times like these,” Mary taught, ignoring the hypocrisy. “You know Mommy will always make sure you’re safe, before anything else, so you just keep a clear head and make sure you’re alright. Let Mommy do the worrying, okay?”

           Dean nodded wearily, using his little fist to wipe away some of the tears and snot. Mary smoothed out his hair from his face, taking a good look at his petite features before setting him under the table. She grabbed a napkin and a knife, handing Dean the napkin while keeping the knife out of his view.

           “Whatever happens, you just make sure you stay hidden. Like a game of hide-and-seek! Wipe your face sweetheart, I’m gonna go see what’s going on,” Mary whispered, her panic uncontrollable. It had been years since she had last seen any type of creature, and she had managed to stay totally out of their radar. She knew it was illogical to think they would have managed to find her after all the work she did to prevent that, but all that went through her head was some damned creature tearing apart her baby. She just couldn’t take the chance.

           Suddenly, she was in full hunting mode. Domestic Mary was gone, replaced by Hunter Mary, who was ready and willing to kill anything that even _attempted_ to lay a hand on Dean. She thought about grabbing the holy water hidden in the attic, but decided it would take too long. Demons don’t tend to _look_ like monsters straight away either, at least not to an innocent child.

           She ran stealthily to the door, locking and bolting it. John had teased her about being so paranoid, getting such heavy duty locks in such a suburban area, and at the time she was able to laugh with him. She was more than grateful that she had listened to her gut at that moment. It would at least stall for a few moments, that was until any danger went for the windows that were open throughout the house. There was no more time to shield; she must be ready to defend.

           Mary took a deep breath, creeping towards the window. It had been a long time since she had hunted, but motherly instincts seemed to be the best hunting fuel there was. She knelt, pulling the front curtain aside ever so gently, as to not draw any attention. Slowly, she peeked outside, her eyes darting across all of the nearby lawns. She looked and looked, but saw nothing that seemed to be of danger. She began to worry that the threat had already found his way in, when her eyes fell on the neighbors across the street coming out of their house, decorations in hand. It wasn’t until she noticed the creepy looking scarecrow with bloody skeleton teeth did she understand. The decorating was a little obsessive, but it was October. Both Mary and Dean had become terrorized by an irrational fear, and Mary couldn’t help but laugh a little. She looked at the knife tucked firmly in her hand and smirked. Old habits die hard.

           As her adrenaline faded, she felt more and more foolish. She entered the kitchen and put away the knife, getting down on her knees and crawling under the table with Dean, smiling softly. He was still hiccuping, but he calmed at the sight of his mom.

           “I’m sorry I panicked, baby. I bet most mommys don’t act like that,” Mary laughed sadly. Hunter or no, how could any children of hers have a normal childhood with a mother of such abnormal demons?

           “It’s okay, you’re the best Mommy in the world,” Dean chirped, his big eyes staring at Mary’s sweetly.

           “Oh sweetheart,” Mary said, gathering him in her arms and nestling him as close as she could manage. “You’re my best little man. There’s no monsters honey, it was just a decoration.”

           She could feel Dean nod slowly, not yet buying the claim. She smiled softly, thinking of her own need of proof to believe safety. Gently, she carried Dean out from under the table and guided him into the living room. He cuddled into her more as they neared the window. She pulled the curtain aside and pointed at the neighbors.

           “See? They’re putting up decorations for Halloween, and the scary guy isn’t hurting them at all. He’s not that scary, just some hay, plastic and paint. It’s okay baby, angels are watching over you.”

           Dean sat up in her arms as she spoke, nodding as he stared with brows furrowed, in a deep concentration it would seem. Mary gazed at him fondly, seeing a strong resemblance between him and his father in that moment. She knew already what greatness Dean would be someday, and she couldn’t wait to see the man he would grow into.

           His pretty features were still bunched in thought as he stared down the “monster” and Mary couldn’t help but begin tickling him. She never wanted him to be scared, she had fought so he wouldn’t ever have to be, like she was in her past. The left over anxiety from the incident subsided as he began giggling and squirming uncontrollably, Mary barely able to keep him in her arms as she attacked his little feet.

           “You forgot about the tickle monster, huh?” she grumbled, putting on a deep voice for effect. He laughed even harder, his gapped teeth flashing. “Alright, enough of the scary stuff, huh baby? Let’s make some pie.” She set Dean in his high chair, kissing his forehead before turning back to her work.

           “Mommy,” Dean’s high voice piped. “Can I help?”

           Mary grinned, pouring a little of the apple mixture she had thrown together earlier in a small bowl. She dug a small spoon into it and put it on his tray.

           “Of course you can! Give that a good mix for me, alright?”

           Dean bobbed his head, happily getting to work, mixing ferociously. Mary beamed at her little boy, such an evident mix of his parents. He was so beautiful; his petite little nose, his pouty, pink lips, his angel-sweet eyes. He was so much more than Mary could ever ask for. The phone began to ring as she mused over her blessings. She rushed to answer it, wiping her hands on her apron.

          “Hello? Yes, this is she. Doctor? Is something wrong?”

           As Mary continued to listen she couldn’t help but start to cry. After she finally hung up all she could think was she had to tell John the news as soon as she could.

* * *

           Mary had set up the whole dining room with the most mood enhancing décor she could muster up in the few short hours before John came home from work. She set up candles, careful to keep them out of Dean’s curious reach. The house still smelled sweet with apple pie, she even had wine sat on the table, but with just one glass.

           Mary hadn’t had the conventional childhood where recipes could be passed down to her, so she did the best she could from an old cookbook she had been given as a wedding gift. John always acted like her cooking was gourmet, in all its overcooked, under-seasoned glory. She could make a damn good pie though.

           It was late when John finally got home, exhausted and a little grouchy. He was caked in some sort of black car substance, of what Mary didn’t care to find out. Still, he was her loving John, and happily obliged her by sitting down for a family dinner. Dean was also exhausted and a little grouchy, Mary so focused on being ready for the announcement that she had forgotten about nap time. It truly was chaos, but they made it work.

           “This is great, Mary,” John said, cutting his chicken with mild effort. Mary scoffed.

           “Please John, I could have served us rocks and they still wouldn’t be as hard as this chicken,” Mary sighed. John couldn’t help but laugh, nodding his head.

           “It’s a little tough,” he agreed, no longer holding back his laughter. Mary began to snicker too until they were all bent over with laughter, even little Dean giggling at what he didn’t understand. Mary wiped the tears from her face once she calmed slightly.

           “I’m glad I didn’t give Dean some, for god’s sake.”

           “Yeah, they must’ve forgotten to put the choking hazard on the chicken pack.” John grinned as Mary began to laugh again, having to cover her mouth to keep her food. “I guess they don’t expect it to be as hard as a child’s toy.”

           “They aren’t doing it right,” Mary managed to joke, speaking between fits of laughter. It was in these moments that Mary felt as though she was falling in love all over again; the teasing, the ridiculous laughing, the loving glances between conversation. She had finally found contentment, away from all the hunting and monsters she had found a real happiness she couldn’t have imagined.

           With all their attention on each other, Dean became a little antsy, beginning to cry for his mom. Tenderly, she lifted him from his chair once she had made sure he was fed enough and carried him to bed, sniffling. It was not usual of him to cry so much, then again her attention had been divided, and there wasn’t much Dean loved more than his mother’s devotion. She wondered how he would react to her announcement, that was, of course, when the time was right to tell him. With his loving heart, she could only think he’d be the most helpful and understanding angel. As she reentered the dining area, she was greeted by a sleepy smile from John, holding up the bottle of wine and two glasses.

           “I grabbed you a glass,” John greeted. “Seeing as Dean’s asleep, I figured it was time we crack this guy open before I sleep for a few, I don’t know, _days._ ”

           Mary smirked. “Both my boys are tired today it seems. I won’t be having any, thank you.”

           “What?” John furrowed his brows. “This is our best stuff, I don’t wanna drink it without you, honey.”

           John began to stand, wine bottle in hand. She scurried to him, placing her hand on his mid-stand.

           “Sit down, John,” Mary assured, sitting down as well. She uncorked the bottle and poured him some wine, grabbing her water from dinner as she handed him his drink. He tilted his head questioningly.

           “What is all this, Mary?” Mary smiled at his confusion, stalling slightly. “I know it’s an occasion when you’re denying some red wine. Is everything okay?”

           “Well,” she began nonchalantly. “ _I_ would love some wine, but I don’t think our baby would like that.”

           “Honey, Dean’s asleep,” John started. “You’re allowed to have some-“

           “I don’t know John, I’m pretty sure fetuses aren’t fond of Merlot,” Mary interrupted, driving home her point. John stared at her for a moment, and she would never forget his face as the realization slowly sunk in. His features went from extreme confusion to pure joy, and in a matter of seconds she was enveloped in his arms. He pulled back after a moment, tears running down both their cheeks. He grabbed her face in his hands affectionately.

           “We’re having a baby,” he whispered.

           “Yes,” she confirmed, laughing. “We’re having a baby.”

           John began kissing all over her face, down onto her neck, making her giggle like a little girl again. He placed his big hands on her stomach, the signs of pregnancy not yet out of hiding. He stared at her stomach, his eyes filled with a love unlike any other. When he finally looked back up at her, she couldn’t help but kiss him, his expression the same as the day of their wedding; true love.

           “If anything deserves a toast with some quality wine,” John said after a moment, grabbing his glass with one hand still on her stomach. “I would definitely say this was it.”

           Mary grabbed her water, one hand placed over the growing baby as well.

           “To family,” Mary cheered, clinking glasses.

           “To family,” John repeated, the candle lights flickering over him, making his eyes look almost yellow. The night drew on, neither concerned with their need of sleep any longer. They let the hours past as they fantasized of all the future possibilities, their whole lives ahead of them.

           Well-

Or so they thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Also at: http://deansleather.tumblr.com/post/145827186915/to-family


End file.
